


there was a time you let me know

by brahe



Series: the baffled king [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Finds Out, Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Powerful Merlin, Pre-Slash, Set During Season One, Slow Burn, Stargazing, non-explicit execution, thanks uther
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: They fall into a routine of silently watching, before and after, in the light of fire and in the light of stars, and maybe it's not quite how a prince is supposed to treat his manservant, but perhaps they were never meant for that, anyway.Or, a series of executions of magic users in Camelot lead to some heart-to-hearts in the street under the moonlight, and Merlin and Arthur make their way towards destiny.





	there was a time you let me know

**Author's Note:**

> hahahaha so I wrote this in 2014 and it's supposed to be a series, and I'm going back and trying to motivate myself to finish all the old stuff I had started and never finished. I actually really like where I was going with this, so hopefully I'll get around to finishing the other parts. I haven't watched merlin in at least two years, but this is set in the first season and I'm lowkey ignoring how the rest of the series plays out for my little au world where Arthur finds out Merlin has magic. The reveal in this is pretty quick and not very detailed, but I have more in mind in the sequels
> 
> also, this deals with some executions where people die. there's nothing explicit, but just a warning.
> 
> title from the song hallelujah

Two drums beat together steadily as two guards escorted a woman dressed in rags to the pile of wood in the center of the courtyard. Merlin stood next to Arthur, unblinking and frozen, watching the proceedings with stony features. He felt, somewhere in the back of his mind, the prince’s gaze on him every now and then, but at these moments he remained as detached as he could. He blinked once against the sudden brightness when the guards lit the pyre, but he didn’t flinch when the woman screamed, nor when her young son tried to run to her. He heard Arthur’s sharp intake of breath, and he heard Morgana slam the large wooden door behind her as she stormed away without having to look to confirm that it was her.

The pyre burnt late into the night, and by the time the last of the embers went out, Merlin was alone in the courtyard, with just his thoughts and a pile of ash. The square was cleared of townspeople, now, and so Merlin left Arthur’s side and descended to the center of the courtyard. Merlin sat several paces from the ash pile that looked like nothing more than a large, awkward shadow in the pale light from the stars and the moon. By the time the sun touched the castle again tomorrow, any evidence of the execution would be cleared from the courtyard and everyone would try his best to move on. Merlin’s thoughts briefly went to the little boy, now motherless, and he wondered what would become of him.

Arthur showed up sometime around when the moon hit center sky. He sat down next to Merlin, close enough to touch but far enough to offer privacy. The prince wanted to say something, anything, to get Merlin out of the cold and silent mood he’d been in all day, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He had learned the hard way that Merlin reacted terribly to the wrong words at the wrong time, and so he decided he should stay quiet until Merlin spoke first. And wasn’t that crazy, the prince waiting on his manservant instead of the other way around? That’s the way they worked though, Arthur realized with a sigh. It’d be crazy any other way, honestly.

Merlin wasn’t even sure how long he had sat outside in the moonlight under the veil of silence before he spoke for the first time that day. “What’s going to happen to her son?”

Arthur startled when Merlin’s rough voice broke through the quiet. “I’m not sure,” he replied softly. Merlin nodded but didn’t say anything for another while.

“He’ll be magic,” Merlin stated. Arthur found himself nodding.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Perhaps it was because Arthur showed concern for the young boy, or perhaps it was because he didn’t question how Merlin knew so certainly that he’d have magic, but Merlin, again for the first time that day, turned his head sharply to look at Arthur. “I’ll see what I can do,” Arthur repeated, his eyes focused on the stars above them. He wasn’t sure why he said that, and he wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do, but for some reason that probably had a lot more to do with the pale, lanky boy sitting next to him than he liked to admit, he knew that’d he follow through with his statement. And it wasn’t as if Arthur was heartless and didn’t care what happened to the child. Merlin just had the ability to make him care _so much more_.

 

Over the years they spent together, executions became some kind of morbid routine. Merlin would watch silent and still and Arthur would watch concerned and apprehensive, and neither would speak until they were seated next to each other on the cool cobblestone in the light of the stars. At those moments more than ever, they were more than prince and servant, more than whatever “destiny” Merlin mentioned on occasion. They were friends, _equals_. Whatever hatred they had in those first months together had long since disappeared and respect took its place. In those nights, the two shared secrets and stories that would have never have come up if it hadn’t been for the depressed atmosphere of the day and the mutual need for comfort. Arthur told Merlin stories from growing up in the castle, and in return Merlin retold his favorite memories from his childhood in Ealdor. Sometimes, Arthur would even tell Merlin things he was afraid of, things like failing his father or losing a fight. Arthur had noticed over the years that as much as Merlin talked, he was incredibly private. For some reason it didn’t bother Arthur that Merlin never opened up about his fears and secrets as much as he did; maybe it had something to do with the fact that though Merlin didn’t vocalize his emotions on those nights when they sat together, he released his tightly-held control on them. The only time Arthur ever saw Merlin cry over one of the executions was the night after a boy no more than eight was put to death. As soon as Arthur sat down he had an armful of a sobbing Merlin. That had been both shocking and heart wrenching, and part of Arthur wanted to cry with the boy in his arms that suddenly looked so fragile. While he agreed with his father on some things, he had long since decided that this massive purge needed to end. “When I’m king, this ends. It all ends,” he had whispered as he ran his hands through the soft, short hair on Merlin’s head and rocked slowly.

 

The day, and following night, of his coronation changed Arthur's life in two ways. The least drastic event was that he was king of an entire kingdom now and he had more responsibility than he expected, though he’d been trained for this day since his birth. The other, though, he could have never been trained for.

Arthur returned to his chambers trailed by an unusually quiet Merlin. Once the doors had closed behind them and were locked for the night, Arthur turned to Merlin. “What’s going on?” he asked, cutting to the chase. He knew Merlin well enough to know something was off. The new king watched as his manservant paced in a small line in front of him.

“Okay,” Merlin nodded to himself. “Don’t hate me,” he pleaded Arthur, looking at him with an emotion Arthur quickly recognized as fear.

“I could never.”

“I really think you could.” The way Merlin’s voice wavered so much while simultaneously holding such conviction worried Arthur. What could scare Merlin so much that he’d be so sure that Arthur would hate him?

“I have magic.”

Arthur blinked. _That’s_ what.

“You have magic,” Arthur repeated dumbly. “For how long?”

“I was born with it.” That statement made Arthur curious.

“That happens? Is that rare, or something?” he asked, and Merlin nodded. “What can you do?”

“I've yet to find something I can’t do,” Merlin laughed, and for a moment he looked so genuinely _happy_ that it made Arthur’s heart hurt. He should look like that all the time.

“So you’re powerful.” It wasn’t a question, but Merlin answered anyway.

“I’m told that I’m the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth.” Arthur almost wanted to say _and who told you that?_ but that was territory he wasn’t sure he was ready to go into yet.

“Show me something.” With that, Merlin gave him the brightest smile he’d ever seen, and Arthur decided that this boy, this man, now, had so much more power over him than he’d ever care to admit.

They spent the next several hours on the floor of Arthur’s chambers, with Merlin showing the king anything and everything he wanted to see. And with every trick came a story of how Merlin had saved Arthur’s life, again and again.


End file.
